Good Enough
by xXsomeoneelseXx
Summary: -SLASH- Sideswipe has an inferiority complex. Optimus can help. Contains plenty of smut, but no spoilers.


This is a plot bunny that was spawned by me asking a friend whether Optimus dies in ROTF. When I went into my room, my Sideswipe toy just _knew_ what she had said. D: Leader-class Optimus ended up hugging a distraught Sideswipe.

Then my brain exploded and plot bunnies flew everywhere. Because I get so many of them from my toys but hardly ever write them down, I figured I'd better catch this one before it got away. It's set on Cybertron, pre-movie obviously. Contains no spoilers, but some sexxins. Sorry it's so short, I meant it to be longer but Sides just couldn't hold out. XD

.o.

Sideswipe was jerked awake by the sound of a nearby mortar explosion.

For a split second he panicked—he had to get up and run! (And what was his mission, again? He knew it was important.) He struggled against whatever it was that was holding him captive, even though the sudden movement made his injured back burn with pain.

"Sideswipe, be calm. You're safe."

With a start, Sideswipe realized he was "held captive" in Optimus Prime's arms. Oh, how mortifying. Held like a sparkling in the middle of a battle.

Oblivious to Sideswipe's embarrassment, Prime looked around again, then turned his attention to the soldier in his lap.

"We're in an abandoned building. We should be safe here until the fighting dies down." He shifted from a crouch to lean against a wall.

"What exactly happened to me?" Sideswipe said, trying to distract himself from the awkwardness of the situation.

Prime gave him an unreadable look.

"You went on a suicide mission and came out alive," he said.

"I went on a mission and failed," Sideswipe corrected him. He remembered now, he was supposed to get behind the enemy line and plant a special little device that Wheeljack had cooked up. All he could really remember was the heat of battle and something hitting him in the back before he'd passed out.

"Vortex gunned you down from behind," Prime said. "Your legs are probably not working." He grunted. "It was a cheap shot."

Sideswipe was not content with a moral victory. His failure _hurt_, made his spark burn as though he'd been shot there as well. The inner mantra of _not good enough_ that he always tried and failed to suppress crescendoed.

_Not good enough, not good enough, you're worthless, can't even run a stupid mission without having to be saved by your commander, stupid failure, NOT GOOD ENOUGH!_

Sideswipe cut himself off with a gasp at the look on Prime's face as he realized he'd been talking aloud. He whimpered and looked away.

Prime's arms closed around him, holding Sideswipe securely. "Sideswipe, look at me."

"No," Sideswipe whispered, trying not to sob.

"Look at me," Prime said, and there was the edge of an order in his voice. Sideswipe reluctantly turned his head, but couldn't bring himself to meet his commander's optics.

"You're not a failure, and you never will be," Optimus said gently. "I can't begin to tell you how important you are on my team, and how much I value your talents. I ran to save you precisely because you _are_ good enough." He stroked Sideswipe's chassis soothingly.

Sideswipe was so worked up that his chestplates retracted automatically, treating the Prime's touch as intimate. He gasped, mortified all over again at his inappropriate response.

Before he could close his chestplates again, Prime's hand was there, thumb sliding through the outer corona of his spark. Sideswipe's servos locked up, and he let out a keen.

"You are more than good enough," Optimus murmured. "And if you don't believe me, you leave me no choice but to convince you." His fingertips ghosted across Sideswipe's spark chamber, leaving the frontliner writhing and incoherent.

"Tell me why you think this way," Optimus said, brushing one finger against a transformation cog. Sideswipe stuttered and a few meaningless phonemes tumbled from his vocalizer. He clenched his hands on the arm that was not exploring his internals, and tried to concentrate on making real words and stringing them together.

"I just—do," was all that he could come up with. "Never—be as good—ooh!—as you—" Optimus was getting close to his spark chamber again, and Sideswipe was finding it hard to say anything other than _Yes_ and _More_. He warbled and tilted his head back, finally meeting his Prime's optics. He could see his own reflection in Optimus's intense gaze, and the sight of himself looking so _vulnerable_ was a surprising turn on.

"Why try to be like me, when you can only ever be you?" Optimus pointed out, shifting him so Sideswipe lay with his back flush against his commander's chassis. He could feel the staccato pulsing of his spark through the layers of armor plating; apparently Optimus was also turned on. His large hand was spreading Sideswipe's unresisting chestplates open even further, as his other arm pulled the frontliner closer. Then his finger had found the seam to Sideswipe's spark chamber and Sideswipe threw his head back on Prime's shoulder and screamed _Yes, oh yes,_ and words fled.

.o.

He regained consciousness to the steady subsonic rumble of Optimus's engine against his back. Large, gentle fingers slid across his abdomen in a comforting embrace.

"Feeling good enough yet?" Optimus murmured in his audio. Sideswipe sighed contentedly.

"More than good enough, I think." He felt Optimus smile into his shoulder.

"In that case, would you mind helping me out? You put on quite a show, and I think I'm overheating…"


End file.
